Miami, or not to be? So-Be it

I have just entered an interesting competition to win a chance to blog about Miami on location with Office. In the spirit of good comping karma, I’m compelled to let you have the link here, but I want so much to win it, I don’t want anyone else to enter!

My brother and his family have lived in Miami for the last 20 years. I’ve been out there a few times before having babies.  I miss them so much. I would love for them to meet my son, last seen as a big round baby bump, bouncing around in the Miami Beach surf. But just to catch up with my big bro would make me happy. He’s such a funny guy.

Miami is stunning. The sunlight makes everything look beautiful anyway, but the art deco district is like having colour therapy; you cannot help but feel happy. The bars, museums, beaches, shops…even the people, are a visual feast. Very inspirational, even if you’re only borderline artistic ; )

One memorable Millenium New Year’s Eve, I got a last-minute (dirt cheap) flight out there. I wouldn’t recommend doing that though. I got no sleep on the plane, so when I arrived in Miami on NYE, I nodded off in the car outside the party, until I got woken up at a quarter to midnight by my brother. Party animal? Sloth, more like! It was weird; I got jet lag the wrong way round.

I spent many a happy hour in Miami at “So-Be” (that’s South Beach to you and me) people-watching from a bar on Ocean Drive. I was amazed by the piercings and the artistry in some of tattoos. It was like watching exotic tropical birds (male and female) on a walking conveyor belt, promoting the latest designs of Miami Ink. It was hardly a catwalk fashion show; it seemed to some people that if their skin was covered in tattoos, they didn’t need clothes! But there were some incredible shoes, huge heels, real feats of engineering (feats, see what I did there?) There were also rather interesting items of unique handmade jewellery, plus the obligatory designer sunnies.

Now I’m ahem..slightly more grown up, so much has happened in terms of my own style. With two small children, I can no longer justify spending the time or money I used to, so I’ve had to resort to more canny methods to express my creativity and beat the recession. I know where all the best charity shops are, (although I still can’t bring myself to buy second hand shoes) and when I can be bothered, I’ll sit in the evening watching Breaking Bad(or, I hate to admit, Privileged)  with a basket of sewing. It’s usually a button on a school skirt or an Angry Bird with leaky stuffing, but now and again, I get to pimp my gear (why does that sound so bad?!)

I still love fashion, even though lately I seem to worship from afar. I’ve organised swishing events for charity, and lived vicariously through my fabulously stylish cousin, a fashion student from Vienna. (No, she has not seen Bruno.) II took her to textile shows and exhibitions of costumes from film and TV.

I’ve made friends with a lovely bunch of ladies who help me when I swan into their sewing class once every few months. Last time I asked if they’ll help me make a template pattern of the only dress in my wardrobe that truly, truly loves me. It was only a Miss Selfridge dress, but it must have been made by a magician, it’s so flattering. Well, forgiving, at least.  It’s now being held together by Wundaweb and loads of stitches. (Who said diamonds are a girl’s best friend? Surely it’s safety pins) I have to clone my lovely dress before it loses its constant battle with the washing machine and dies. Why can’t designers make loads more flattering clothes for real women?

Which brings me to the all-powerful, almighty Gok.

Oh Gok, I look so smug

I met Gok Wan at the Custard Factory in Birmingham when he was patron for the Vodafone World of Difference Campaign. We were having a photoshoot, and the cameraman made me stand by him. And my word, does Gok smell gorgeous! I was so intoxicated, I forgot to ask him what he was wearing. In fact, I’ve just googled him now and found out, it probably was indeed, Gorgeous.Gok is my idol. As a child, I used to bang away on a knackered old typewriter, making books and drawing my own detailed pics of how to bling up your clothes with beads and sequins (it was the eighties, it was allowed!)

If only, if only, I knew that I could have had a job like Gok’s, I wonder where I’d be right now? (Probably miserable as hell, but looking fabulous with it, dahling!) My husband gets freaked out by this, but I’ve been saying for years I’m a drag queen in a woman’s body. A really, really camp one.

SELLING OR CLEANING YOUR HOME WITH SMALL KIDS

house for sale

We’re selling our home with small kids. By which I don’t mean selling my kids too, obviously. Although that could solve a lot of problems…only kidding. Or am I?! Get a 10 percent discount if you take one kid, twenty percent if you take two.

For those who have already been through all this, you will know what a killer it is simply firefighting the usual kiddie grub every day, let alone trying to bring the house up to a respectable 8 out of 10 before someone comes round to view it. I’ve kind of fumbled my way around and tried out loads of stuff. This is what I’ve found works for me.

We all have our own routines, but my daily firefight consists of “bare minimum” housework, plus whatever I’m not too shattered to tackle that day (depending on whether I’ve slept the night before)

Clean down breakfast carnage off the dining table

Empty/fill dishwasher at least once a day

Empty/fill washing machine at least once a day

Vacuum floors when you can’t bear it anymore

Then tackle whatever is glaringly bad and you can’t hide it from your husband.

I did try to learn from the best; one website called Flylady comes highly recommended. But when she stated that you should throw away 27 things a day, I was confused. Why 27? Is this some ritual, perhaps to the god of OCD? Who knows.

You just have to find what works for you. Look around, see where clutter gathers, and work with it, not against it. What’s the point of busting a gut clearing it up if it’ll be there again tomorrow? For instance, I have one child who is such a clutterbug (cutting up pieces of paper to play confetti, leaving plasticine and blu tac where it gets ground into the carpet; I could go on) so I bought a load of pretty gift boxes and we make it a game to sort things out, like a post office or a shop.

We have rustic-looking toy boxes dotted around in places where toys just seem to gather. And when we finally get round to sorting them out, it’s Christmas all over again! Never underestimate the novelty of finding a toy they haven’t seen for a few months.

Motivate your kids into tidying up after themselves. You may think it’s quicker to do it yourself but it’s worth it in the long run. You have to choose your battles too, because constant nagging DOES NOT WORK and only exhausts you both. Then when you do finally explode, your child will think ‘uh oh, this time it’s serious.’

You have to step up your game another level when you’re selling your house.

A couple of things I learned:

Everything will get shoved into cupboards. Open with care to avoid avalanches. And you’ll forget where you’ve put stuff. Major drag. Happens to me every time I clear my office/spare room when the in-laws come to stay.

Dulux Matchpots will become your best friend as you find yourself dabbing more magnolia over mysterious stains, than a drag queen uses concealer to hide her five o clock shadow.

After seeing so many properties online, thinking ‘that place is immaculate, but where’s all their STUFF?’ I was given the answer when the estate agent came round to photograph our house. I had spent two days beyond ‘bare minimum,’ cleaning, scrubbing, and shoving into cupboards. Our estate agent practically emptied each room as she went along, moving all our ‘stuff’ into the previous room before moving on. Taking away things like loo rolls (people obviously don’t use loo rolls in that world) and taking pictures from ridiculous angles that made the house look, well…beautiful.

The only problem now is when people come round, I’m scared they’ll be hugely disappointed, like seeing a massively airbrushed glamour photo of someone, before going out on a date with them.

We had our dream viewers the other day; a family with a toddler who want to move to a larger property. They know what it’s like with a little one, and might as well put up with the grub for a few more years before changing the kitchen, or putting down new carpets. It’ll only get covered in crayons, plasticine or mysterious stains. They’ve booked a second viewing when they come back from holiday. I’m keeping my fingers, eyes and legs crossed till then.

FREEBIES!!

FREEBIES!

Just a selection of freebies from a member of magicfreebiesuk.co.uk

Did that get your attention? Ever since i was little girl I got a real kick out of getting stuff by post. Even better, when it was free! My mum gave me a book called Free Stuff by Post (or something like that; can’t remember, it was a long, LONG time ago!)

Now, thanks to the marvellous tinterweb you can get all sorts, and I like sharing in the excitement with my children when they get a free toy from Lego, or an info pack and stickers from RSPB.

If you fancy a bit of pampering, Large cosmetic houses like L’Oreal or Rimmel often hand out thousands of samples, and I’ve had loads of foundations and shampoo/conditioner samples; very useful when going swimming with the kids. For the expensive lotions and potions, try your favourite websites, or failing that, bite the bullet, take the pushchair and go into town to chat up the ladies on the cosmetic counters. Some of them will take pity on us haggard sleep-deprived mums, surely? See it as a challenge, perhaps? There are days when I still look like my “Before” photo…?!

Unfortunately I have very expensive taste and a lot of the lotions and potions I crave aren’t available everywhere. Dermalogica moisturisers and Giorgio Armani foundations….hmmm!

My birthday’s coming up soon; maybe I need a trip to Selfridges on my own.

It’s well worth signing up to these websites and getting their e-newsletters:

Magic Freebies – updated daily. Check out the Kids and Babies category for children’s freebies.

Moneysaving Expert.com – excellent advice on everything. Almost makes saving money fun!

Change4Life  from time to time give out sticker packs and free, fun activities to promote healthy eating and exercise.

and don’t forget the comps and offers pages on each of the baby websites, like Prima Baby Expert

…or just Google ‘Freebies UK’ and see what comes up. Have fun!

 

Comper turned gatekeeper

Birth of Veg-us by JelliBotti

Birth of Venus by Botticelli

I’ve never really hidden the fact that I’m a comper, but I’m not some mad keen fanatic who will fill in every entry form of every company trying to collate your details. Nor am I the gambling type, addicted to scratchcards and the like.

Comping for me has become a means to an end, a hobby with major rewards, that can be great fun! If you’re a photographer, writer, or a bit of a wit with slogans, it can be quite lucrative…and tax-free, yay!

My favourite websites are www.theprizefinder.com if you’re looking for a particular prize (a holiday, or an XBox, for instance) or www.loquax.com is good if you have a particular talent; it has a section on creative comps that can get you and your family all inspired. I also subscribe to Compers News, which has paid for itself many times over and there’s something comforting about having a hard copy mag to read (I’m old school.)

I’ve roped my husband and kids into all sorts of adventures, dressed the kids up as aliens and pirates for photo comps, we’ve all gone looking for geocaching treasure to win a £50 voucher for an outdoor adventure shop, and my husband and I even recreated the famous “Here’s Johnny!” scene in The Shining, to win…ahem…a ton of Max Factor makeup.

Make-up aside, the whole family reap the rewards of my comping, and we’ve enjoyed prizes large and small, from exciting little packets that come through the post for the kids, to a family membership to RHS and a holiday in Florida.

People who moan ”I never win anything, me” probably don’t make much of an effort, or if they have, they need to comp smarter, not harder! I had a lot of success during my baby years, submitting photos and stories to the likes of Prima Baby Expert, because they are targeting a smaller group within the population – parents. And a percentage of those parents won’t have the energy to take part, which increases your chances of winning even more! (That’s what I like to tell myself, although I reckon most of us parents are in the same boat; when the kids go to bed, we all need something to make those long evenings fly by!)

I restrict my comping by asking myself (1) are we having fun? and (2) is it taking up too much time that I should be spending on the kids? Most of the time, I involve the kids as well, like in the making of The Fruitgitive, a spoof of the famous dam scene in The Fugitive, recreated with fruit and veg…

That one was to win £50K for Barclays. I didn’t win the comp that time, because let’s face it, I’m no Sofia Coppola! We had great fun making it though, on the windiest day of the year, with a paddling pool and slide with a hose running water , slowly turning the garden into a quagmire.

We did win another comp though, making a film where my kids spent a lovely day on the farm. We went to London to watch it at a VIP film festival and won a Leapster games console as a runner-up. In fact, to date, we’ve never had to buy any games consoles, because we tend to win them! My daughter won a Nintendo DS in a rapping competition (a three year old talking street is a disturbing thing, and I found it very odd that she memorised a rap wot I wrote. )

And now, I’m poacher turned gatekeeper. I’m experiencing competitions from the other side of the fence. I’m running a Crime Writing Competition in association with the British Thyroid Foundation and Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Festival in Harrogate. The winner will receive two tickets to the VIP launch party for the Crime Novel of the Year on Thursday 19 July, plus dinner, bed and breakfast at the sumptuous Cairn Hotel.

All you have to do is write a short story (max 2,000 words) on the theme ”Go for the Throat!” and send it with a donation for £3. All proceeds to the British Thyroid Foundation. Please refer to the website for full terms and conditions on how to set out your story.

Arrr! Treasure! Geocaching 101

Now listen up, muggles. You are about to get initiated into a ‘secret’ pastime that is getting more and more popular. With the increase of smartphone technology and easy to use sat-nav apps, I predict this will be a big, big hit this summer. (It’s taking long enough!)

Geocaching can be simply described as ‘high-tech treasure hunting’ using satellite navigation or GPS co-ordinates. You go to http://www.geocaching.com choose a fun place to go, find the satellite coordinates of the hidden treasure box, put them in your sat nav, GPS, and go find it!

You would not believe how many little treasure boxes there are hidden around the world, or indeed your local area. We’ve been geocaching since the babies were tiny,  pushing the buggy through inches of mud and up steep hills, all to find a watertight box filled with all kinds of toys, from your cheap cracker toys to marbles and geocoins and Happy meal toys….still not convinced? OK, well, the kids love it!

You get fresh air, exercise, and the chance to discover great new places off the beaten track.

I have just as much fun, if not more, from hiding treasure boxes. I hid two boxes at either end of Meanwood Valley Urban Farm  and called them Old McDonalds Farm, the idea being I filled them up with McDonalds Happy Meal toys and children could take their own to swap. I’ve also hidden one that was dolls’ house miniatures (called little treasures, I think.)

Then there’s travel bugs, which get taken from cache to cache on some kind of mission. On behalf of British Thyroid Foundation, I’ve sent a hare and a tortoise on a race up to Edinburgh in time for Gardening Scotland.

I’ve hidden another lovely box of pirate treasure near a pirate ship in a great little playpark near Wetherby. It’s surrounded by quirky shops that used to be underground munitions stores. Now they look like tellytubby land, all rolling hills with doors in them.

Husband loves it because it’s all about the numbers – How many geocaches can we get in a year? How many counties can we cover? How many first to finds (FTFs)? He even has a map and graph and everything! Ah, the geeks will inherit the earth!

The kids love it because they’ll walk for miles for the mere hint of treasure. They take a toy with them to swap with the toys in the box. So before you start thinking “hey, I can get rid of all those rubbish plastic toys!” Think again. It’s super fun though; you may even get a kick out of it yourself.

And I love it because it makes an essentially boring physical activity – walking – into a relatively interesting one, and we’ve found all sorts of weird and wonderful places we would never have known about.

If you want to learn more about this fascinating pastime, go to www.geocaching.com

and here is more details on obtaining the app on android with thanks to Three and Prima baby expert

App-y daze are here again!

credit knowyourmobile.com

Last week, I went to London for a photoshoot for Prima Baby . Five mums have been chosen by Prima Baby Expert to review apps on the

(provided courtesy of Three.co.uk ) and each phone has been loaded up with apps to help with their “mummy issues”.

I will be having training tomorrow to get the most out of my new smartphone,

but for now, I’ve compiled a Mummy Dream Wishlist

of new apps to make all our lives easier:

Housework App – a housework fairy that cleans and cooks? All for 69p?

Sleep App – to help u get a good night’s sleep (or the best you can, anyway)

Fit App - keep fit in your sleep….What?! No-one’s invented that yet? Oh well, better try these instead:

My Fitness Pal  – track calories, exercise and weight loss.

(This app has a huge database of foods so it’s easy to look up nutritional info and plan your meals.)

Nike Boom – will sync your music to your workout depending on tempo. Also offers motivational tecniques from top athletes.

Fit Radio - “DJ-engineered” music to amp up your workout.

I also had the rare opportunity to catch up with my gorgeous new baby nephew. We live 4 hours apart, so I was really grateful for the chance to meet up with my brother’s family in London.

It wasn’t pre-planned, but I had photos taken with my beautiful nephew. I’m glad to say, he totally stole my limelight!

My nephew’s such a good boy, and would make a great baby model. He had  a great “conversation” with a baby girl, they were playing footsie and giggling. It was a joy to watch! I wish I could bottle the sound of babies giggling, it’s the most joyous sound in the world.

And when the pictures are published, tongues will be wagging in the playground when the other mums see me with another baby!

Hide the Poo

Cupcake, anyone?

We’ve been playing this game as a family for a few years now, where we take it in turns to hide a fake plastic poo. The object of the game is to hide it somewhere that will cause much embarrassment and hilarity when discovered by the victim. I can’t remember exactly when and how it started. Probably during those sleepless nights/zombie days, “don’t get out much” phase, it seemed like a fun idea. But now we’ve raised our game to new standards.

We are now on Plastic Poo number 2 (pun intended) as the original was lost in a wonderfully wacky wheeze. I tied the poo to the inside of my son’s swimming shorts so it would rise up and float on the surface as my husband was taking him round the pool at his swimming lessons.

Although my baby son was in on it, the poo failed to deploy until they were in the shower afterwards, which caused a few raised eyebrows in the mens’ changing room, but no real embarrassment among the Boden mums, as was the original plan.

 

Then the poor little poo got caught up in the wet swimming washing and did 15 rounds with the washing machine. This is when we discovered it wasn’t plastic at all, but some composite of starch and paper, so the poo was no more.

For Christmas, my husband received a gorgeous gift box with ribbons, tissue paper, the works. Inside was another beautiful box, and inside that….you guessed it. Enter Poo number 2. Game on.

I was on my way out to an interview in my best coat, but my husband chickened out and told me he’d stuck the poo on the back of my butt. That could have been the best one ever, but as he’s a true gentleman, he couldn’t let me go out looking like that, could he? Or could he?! I have to check all the time, now, just in case!

A PhD in App-ology

Don Johnson's not-so-smartphone

This Monday, I’ll be mostly in London on a photoshoot. I expect it won’t be quite as glam as it sounds, but still, I’m very excited!

Prima Baby and 3 have chosen  mums to blog every week and test out some apps, showing how they help with various mummy problems.

I’ve been saving my best blogs for when we’re up and running, and will probably include my favourite app of the week (well, I am a media ho after all.)

And by a strange coincidence, I spent yesterday thinking about where my iPod could have got to. It had been missing for two months, and I was sure it was stolen.

But then my son started poking around in the back of the car. After pushing the back seats down and looking underneath, we found the iPod, glistening amongst a treasure trove of marbles, watches, toy cars…oh, and several years’ worth of mouldy snacks and other unrecognisable objects. (I think we may need to call in CSI to rip the car apart and give it a damn good clean.)

Now the iPod can belong to the kids, it’s loaded with games anyway. And I can keep my lovely new smartphone for apps for me me me! So watch this space for useful apps that will make all our lives easier. We hope!

Moshi Monsters Party season

It’s that time again when I start organising the kids’ party. Their birthdays are fairly close together so I get it over and done with in one go, like ripping off a plaster.  It won’t be till mid June, but I like to spread the cost of all the bits and pieces that add up, like party bags and decorations, etc. (Also helps to sneak things under the wire when hubby starts looking at bank statements!)

I’ve noticed more and more parents are “party sharing” – joining forces with other kids in the class with similar birthdays and sharing costs and organisation. I think that’s such a great idea, as there is the added bonus of freeing up some of our weekends,  so parents don’t have to ferry their kids to party after party. (I know we have to live vicariously through our offspring now we “don’t get out much”, but soft play centres? Pass the parcel?)

This year may be the last year both my kids want the same thing, so I’m making the most of it. Moshi Monsters is so popular amongst kids their age, it’s a given. I just picked up some Moshi plates and cups from Tesco Extra for £1 a set, on offer instore at time of writing.  Online, they have quite a selection to drain away your hard earned.

My kids will only be allowed seven friends each, plus themselves – party packs come in sets of 8. But as I’m thinking about having it at home instead of a venue, ‘only’ 16 kids might be a good idea….*%£&*!!

I say everything comes in packs of 8, but be warned, the invitation cards come in packs of 6 at the moment. I wrote a nice email to the production company Gemma International and bless em, their customer service was superb (how often can you say that?!)

I have to be honest, I love organising my kids parties. I only have to do it once a year, so I go a bit OTT. My husband would be happier if we left it to Wacky Warehouse or something, but I just can’t pass up on an opportunity to do something creative AND fun for the kids. We’ve had a Secret Garden Party in a public outdoor location (it threatened to pour down all the time and the heavens opened 15 mins before the end…never again.) We had a great little pirate party where my fantastic husband got into character (and costume) to take everyone on a treasure hunt, completed with ancient treasure maps and treasure chests. Last year we had a Total Wipeout party in a soft play centre, where we handed out trophies with the goody bags.

And just once a year I make a birthday cake, with varying success. I love the planning the detail,

working out how to make stained glass windows on a gingerbread house,

arguing with my husband which cereal makes the nicest “sand” surrounding a pirate treasure box (it’s Rice Krispies – I told you we don’t get out much) or the heady challenge of making a Total Wipeout course using only mini rolls, licorice torpedoes, chocolate spread and jelly babies.

But my favourite project was making a pinata. Disgusted by the price you’d pay for an empty pinata, I decided to make a massive one using papier mache and a full size space hopper. I spent many a sunny afternoon finally reading all those newspapers I never got round to reading (OK, so they were ripped up into squares and covered in paste, but I got the gist of what was going on in the world a month ago.) When I finished, it was It was ENORMOUS! It was also indestructible, so this year, I’m in charge of pinata and everyone can beat the hell out of it. Last year it was a bumble bee. This year?

Jeepers the Moshling (same colours!)

Jeepers the Moshling

PS I’ve been asked to organise parties for other people’s kids in the past. Much as I love it, it’s exhausting and terrifying (like bringing up kids, I guess) so please, please don’t ask me. You can’t afford me.

Sh*t my husband says (when he’s back from the pub)

Once a week, my husband is allowed to play out with his friends at pub quiz, and when he comes back and rolls into bed, we talk until  way past midnight (on a school night as well – shame on us.)
We have the most weird and wonderful conversations. I think drunkenness must be catching.

So, as a tribute to the fantastic Shit My Dad Says , here are some pearls of wisdom from my inebriated husband:
“Men like to sit on neutral territory (ie pub) and have a pint. They don’t dig deeper than a millimetre. Men are more like eggs in an egg box happily sitting side by side, while women want to make omelettes….?”
Ah, now I have the answer to the subtle art of interacting with other women: just don’t make omelettes with them.
“Facebook, Twitter, blogging…it’s all just showing off, isn’t it? And empty vessels make most noise.“
I have to agree with him, and the irony’s not lost on me. Nowadays, everyone can be a gossip columnist. Doesn’t mean everyone should. But even so, there’s plenty of room for all, and everyone has the right to be heard, I guess. On a global scale, there will always be someone with too much time on their hands, and if you find the right audience, even the quietest voices will be listened to by somebody interested in the minutiae of others’ lives.

Then we decided we’re actually doing our bit for the environment by having kids. Yes, that’s right! Hear me out. We’ve had two kids, just enough to replace myself and my husband in the universe. They are both really intelligent and open to learning. They have natural talent and interest in Maths and Science, so we’re going to encourage them towards engineering/inventing, as well as languages (to break down lingual barriers) and History (to learn from others’ mistakes and arrogance, rather than their own.)

If (God forbid) major natural disasters or terrorist revolution should ever befall us, it would be comforting to think the human race has a fighting chance. But if TV is to be believed, the way things are going, the world will be full of X-factor wannabes. If you’re under terrorist attack, what use would it be to know how to dance ballroom? There would probably be starvation on a global scale – what use then would it be to know how to create a poncey chef-fy foam of gob on a plate? With any luck, my kids and their peers will come up with the answer to the looming global water shortage, or a clean, cheap alternative source of fuel.

Who knows? The cure for cancer may still be found, too late for the loved ones we’ve already lost, but giving great hope to future generations. And with that rant, it’s way past midnight and two parents zonk out for a couple of hours, get woken several times during the night, then get up at the crack of sparrow to face the next day, which is nearly always a write-off.